His Mother's Son
by MsLane19
Summary: In which Ashara Dayne makes a different choice and Jon Sand is raised at Starfall
1. Chapter 1: Ashara

A/N: I had already posted this on AO3 and decided to post it here. I do not own anything, it all belongs to GRRM. Don't sue me, I'm broke. College took all my money, so all I have is some student loans.

She feels as though she cannot breathe, as though the walls are closing in on her, and it seems like a part of her has died. To know that she will never again see her beloved brother smile, hear his laugh. She thinks that he will be happy now, with Elia and Rhaenys, but it does nothing to ease the pain that pierces her heart. But when Ned Stark tells her that he wants to take Jon to Winterfell, she wrenches herself out of her grief and tightens her grip on Dawn as she stands tall,looks into his eyes and with as much determination as she can muster says "No." No, she will not let him take her child from her, not when he has already taken so much. Yes, maybe she is wrong to blame him for Arthur's death, but he has Catelyn Tully and her son waiting for him at Winterfell. All she has is a sword and a promise that Arthur's body will be returned to her. And Jon. Right now, her son is all that is keeping her anchored and she will not lose him too.

* * *

Ned argues with her at first, says that Jon is a Stark, that he belongs in the North. But she looks at her son's face and sees Arthur's mouth, the shape of Arthur's eyes. His nose resembles Ned's but the bones of his face will be like her own father's, she can tell. He has the dark, grey eyes of the Starks, but the glossy shine to his black curls marks him as her's. For all that her son looks like a Stark, he is still a Dayne; he belongs to her, to Starfall. Next, Ned pleades with her, says that a son should know his father and that he would be well cared for at Winterfell. But she knows how bastards are treated in the northern realms and she will be damned if she allows her son to be raised that way. With her at least he will have a chance. With her, he will know that he is loved. She knows that Ned would never be unkind to him, but she also knows that the presence of his wife would never allow him to treat Jon the way that his trueborn children will be treated.

In the end, Ned bargains. He asks for a compromise. She gives it to him. When the deal is made and Ned rides away north to Winterfell where his Tully wife waits for him with her son, Ashara takes Jon into her arms and holds him close and she hums Dornish lullaby as the tears run down her face.

* * *

The first few months are hard. Jon is a perfect baby, calm and quiet like his father, but her grief is fresh and it seems as though everything makes it worse. Caring for Jon keeps her sane, keeps her grief from overpowering her, and as the days go on she begins to breathe again. She watches her son grow and she thinks that there has never been a mother prouder than she is. Ned writes to her, asking after their son, and she keeps him informed of Jon's progress. The first time he turns over by himself, the first time he sits up, the first time he crawls, the first time he pulls himself up to stand. She cries when he takes his first steps, when he says his first word (Mama is first, and she will always keep that memory close.) She describes his first nameday celebrations in great detail, right down to the moment when Allyria grew tired of waiting for Jon to finish inspecting his cake and pushed his face down in it.

* * *

There are some things however, that she does not tell Ned.

The second word he says is Dawn. No one is suprised really, Jon has been fascinated by the sword since the first time he laid eyes on it. He found it when he started to crawl and began exploring his surroundings. He would crawl over to the place where it was kept, pull himself up to a sitting position and stay there for hours at a time, just looking. Sometimes he would reach out his tiny hand and run his little fingers up and down the sheath. When he first pulled himself up to stand,it was so that he could touch the handle. Her brother Allem watches him sometimes when he does it, an undreadable expression on his face. She wonders if he is thinking the same thing she is. That one day, her son may carry Dawn. She hopes he will.

Allyria is two years older than her son and already they are best of friends. Jon idolizes her. He follows her around, calls her "Ally." When he hurts himself, he runs to Ashara first to be comforted, and then to Ally. Allyria seems to enjoy her role of protector, although she also enjoys telling Jon what to do, dictating their play with all the authority that a three year old can muster. Ashara watches the two of them toddle along the beach together, hand in hand, and she knows that she made the right choice in not letting Ned take him away.


	2. Chapter 2: Jon

At five years old, Jon is jealous of his cousin Edric. He hides it well, he's good at hiding things, but he still feels it. He has never been jealous before, but he knows what it is because Ally had been jealous of Sarella when she recieved a new sand steed for her nameday and Ally didn't. He thinks that he has a better reason for his jealousy though. Jon is jealous of Edric because Edric can do the one thing that Jon has always wanted to do. He can call Uncle Allem 'Father.'

* * *

Mother says that he already has a father, that Lord Stark is his father. Jon doesn't see how that can be true. Lord Stark is a name that belongs to the letters that come once a month, the letters that he dutifully reads (with Mother's help) and then dutifully replies to (under Maester Sallem's supervision.) Jon has seen fathers before and if he knows anything about them, it is that they are not signatures at the bottom of a piece of parchment. They are real people who hold their children close and teach them things that no one else can. He has seen Sarella's father spend hours in the practice yard with Sarella and her sisters. Lord Stark asks him questions in his letters about his progress in the pratice yard, (how is he getting on, does he like the Master of Arms, does he like the sword better than the bow?) but it was Uncle Allem who had first shown him how to hold a blade, how to widen his stance, how to defend himself against an enemy. Jon has seen Quentyn's father sit beside him as he sounded out the words in a book about dragons. Lord Stark asks him questions about his lessons with Maester Sallem, (what part of his studies does he like best, what is he learning about in history, has he learned anything about the North in his studies?) but it was Uncle Allem who, for his fifth nameday this year, gave him a book detailing the history of Dawn and the Lords of Starfall who bore the title of Sword of the Morning. It was Uncle Allem, not Lord Stark, who sat beside him as he read and helped him sound out the more difficult words that he struggled with. He has seen Prince Oberyn spin Sarella's younger sisters around the room, seen Quentyn's father pull him close with a proud smile on his face, and he has seen Uncle Allem throw Edric into the air and then catch him as he squealed with laughter. Lord Stark ends every letter by telling Jon that he loves him, that he thinks of him often and looks forward to meeting him someday. Uncle Allem smiles proudly the first time Jon hits the target during archery lessons, ruffles his hair as he says "Well done." And at night when it is time for bed, Uncle Allem pulls Jon onto his knee and tells him stories of brave knights and great battles fought and won (his favorite stories though are the ones of his Uncle Arthur, but those stories make Uncle Allem sad and his mother cry so he doesn't ask for them often.) Then, when the tale is done and Edric is asleep on Mother's lap and Jon's eyelids are droopy, Uncle Allem presses a kiss to his forehead as he passes him off to Wylla.

Lord Stark tells him he loves him, but it is Uncle Allem who shows him that he does.

* * *

(Years later, when he is fully grown, Jon will remember the day he first held Dawn. It will be a memory forever burned into his mind.)

Whenever Jon feels upset or confused about something, he makes his way to the Library. There, sitting in a far corner, is Dawn. There is something about Dawn that is different than any other sword. Secretly, Jon thinks that the sword has thoughts of her own, that she can feel and listen and understand. Whenever something is bothering him, he goes and sits beside Dawn and watches the sunlight filter in through the windows and glance off of the handle and the silver design on her sheath. Sometimes he touches her and revels in the thrill that moves from his fingertips up his arm to settle in his chest. He likes to think that the thrill he feels is the sword speaking to him.

Today though, he is just watching. The silence is broken by the sound of footsteps and a movement behind him. He looks up to find Uncle Allem standing in the doorway smiling down at him. "Keeping watch again are we?" Jon blushes and nods his head. "She is beautiful isn't she?" Jon looks up at his Uncle as he replies in a serious voice, "She is the most beautifulest sword ever." Uncle Allem laughs, "Aye, that she is." He looks from Jon to Dawn with a thoughtful look on his face then looks back at Jon as he asks, "Would you like hold her Jon?" Jon's eyes widen and he feels his heart beat faster, "Really? You mean it?" He has never been allowed to pick up Dawn before, never been allowed to hold her. Uncle Allem smiles softly at him as he moves pick up Dawn from her resting place and says, "You're five years old now, quite old enough I think." He pulls Dawn from her sheath and Jon is struck by the beautiful, milk pale blade that shimmers like starlight in the sun. Uncle Allem places Dawn in his hands, helps him hold her by covering Jon's hands with his own, adding his strength to Jon's. Jon looks at the sword in his hands hands and breathes, "Oh." He feels a thrill go up his spine, feels as though he has never been happier in his life. A gasp from the doorway startles him and he looks to see his mother standing there, watching him with wide eyes. She smiles, but he can still see the suprise in her eyes. "Jon, Maester Sallem is looking for you. It's time for your lessons." Jon sighs and looks back at Dawn, so reluctant is he to put her down, but Uncle Allem smiles as he says to Mother, "Don't worry Ashara, I will send him on in a moment." Mother nods, then turns and leaves the room. "Now Jon," Uncle Allem says seriously. "You know the story of Dawn, that she is given to the knight who is most worthy of her?" Jon nods his head as his uncle sheaths Dawn and places her back in the corner. Uncle Allem places his hand on his shoulder and walks him out into the hallway, shuts the door behind them, and then bends down to look Jon in the eyes. Placing both of his hands on his shoulders, he tells him, "If you want to carry her Jon, you must earn the right to do so. Study hard, practice as often as you can, and do your very best to become the best, and one day you may become the Sword of the Morning." Jon looks into his uncle's kind face and asks, "But what if I'm not the best, what if I can't earn her?" Uncle Allem smiles and says, "You will, I believe you will Jon. You are so like Arthur in some ways. I believe you will be just great as he was."

(Jon never forgets those words. They drive him, motivate him to excell in the practice yard, to be better than anyone else. And from that moment on, earning the right to carry Dawn becomes his greatest dream.)


	3. Chapter 3:Ned

Once a month, Ned writes two letters. The first is addressed to his son, it's the easier one to write. His thirst for any news of his son spills out onto the page in a thousand questions about the things that must have happened in his son's life since the last time he had written. A month is a long time, longer than it seems. A lot can happen in a month. He has to remind himself that Jon is only six years old and he doesn't want to overwhelm him. It's hard though, to limit all the things he desires to say to three sheets of parchment. There are so many things that he wants to say to his son, things that he wishes he could say in person. He watches Robb grow and imagines what it would be like if Jon was there beside him. He shows Robb how to use a sword and he imagines doing the same for his other son. He reads the letters written in a childish hand, and wishes that Jon was with him, so that he could hear about his son's adventures in person. The hardest things to read though, have always been the things he reads between the lines. Ashara's brother is mentioned often and he knows that it is because Allem has taken over the role of father for Jon, the role that should have been his. It's hard to know that someone else is teaching his son what it means to be a man, but at the same time he is grateful that Jon has that presence in his life. If he could, he would ride to Starfall that very moment and swoop Jon up into his arms. But it is more than distance that lies between them, and it will be sometime yet before he sees his son again. So he does what he can to bridge the gap between them, he writes his letters and waits eagerly for Jon's replies.

The second letter he writes, is to Ashara. It is hard to write to her, to picture her face, the look in her haunting, violet eyes. He betrayed her, he knows this. He told her he loved her, made promises to her that he broke the day he took Cat as his wife, left her with a bastard son and no chance at ever having a husband and family of her own. He knows she does not blame him, that she is stronger than he gives her credit for, but it doesn't change the fact that he feels guilty for abandoning her the way he did. She keeps him updated on Jon's progress, filling in the gaps that Jon leaves, assuring him that all is well and that there is nothing that they need. He tries not to feel hurt by the latter, pushing aside the feeling of being useless and unwanted.

He is always pleased to recieve their replies, but he keeps the joy he feels to himself. In the beginning, when it was only Ashara who would write to him, he had attempted to share the news of Jon's wellbeing with Catelyn. She'd never said anything, but he could tell that his words caused more harm than good. So he reads the letters in his study and keeps them in a box on his desk. He never broaches the subject of Jon to Cat, and she never mentions it to him. Still, he knows that at some point they will have to speak of it. He has told Cat of the compromise that Ashara had agreed to, and she cannot ignore Jon's existence forever.

* * *

Ned is in his study going over his ledgers when Robb comes to him. He is suprised by his son's voice asking, "Is it true that I have a bastard brother?" He is stunned, neither he nor Cat had discussed Jon's existence with the children yet. He was waiting for Cat to choose the time, and she seemed to be happy with simply letting the subject lie for the moment. "Where did you hear about that Robb?" Robb came closer and leaned against the side of his chair. "Theon overheard the kitchen maids talking about it the other day. They said that the letters you recieved were from Dorne where your bastard son lives. Is it true?" Ned made a mental note to have a word with the kitchen maids. He would need to have a word with Theon as well. He sighs, and pulls Robb up onto his lap. "Aye, it's true. His name is Jon and he is but a few months older than you." Robb's eyes lit up. "I was hoping it was, I've always wanted a brother and now I know I have one. What is he like? Does he like to play games? Does he like sparring?" Ned chuckled, Robb's excitement pleases him, it bodes well for when Jon will come to Winterfell. "Aye, he plays all sorts of games with his friends, and he enjoys sparring in the practice yard just as much as you do." Robb nodded his approval, then frowned as he asked, "But why doesn't he live with us?" "Because his mother wanted him to live with her in Dorne. She thought that he would be happier there." And she was right, Ned added silently. Overtime, he had come to realize that his son's life would not have been so happy and filled with love as it was now had he taken him away from Starfall. However, it seemed that Robb did not agree with Ashara's assessment. "She must never have been to Winterfell then. It's the best place in the world!" Robb looks up at him as he asks, "Do you think that she will let him come see us sometime? I want to show him around, we can be friends!" Ned smiles as he sets Robb down. "Someday, he will come live with us. But not just yet." Robb nods his head happily, and then hurries out of the room, leaving Ned to his work. 'Seven more years. Seven years, and then I will see him again.' Those seven years could not pass by quickly enough.


	4. Chapter 4: Ashara

It seems as though it was only yesterday when her son took his first breath, when she first held him in her arms. But it has been eleven years. Eleven years and her time is running out. 'Two more years,' She thinks. 'Two more years, and I will lose him.' She stands at the window and watches Jon and Edric spar in the practice yard. Jon was teaching Edric a new move he had learned a few days ago, and Allyria was watching from the sidelines as she cheers for her nephews'. "She's grown up to be a beautiful young woman. She reminds me of you at that age. We will be recieving marriage offers soon I think." Ashara turned to look as her brother moved to stand beside her. "I was her age when I went to Sunspear to be Elia's companion." She looked back down at the yard as Allyria laughed as Edric stumbled and fell to the ground, taking Jon with him. "It's strange, it seems like only yesterday, but at the same time, so long ago." Allem smiled at her, "Time moves so quickly sometimes." "Yes, it does." Ashara whispered, her eyes following her son's movements. "Too quickly."

She heard Allem sigh, "You still haven't told him yet?" "What am I supposed to say? Jon, in two years time you are going to have to go North to live with your father, whom you've only met once when you were a babe? Should I tell him that he will most likely be mistreated and disliked by his father's family? That he will be judged by his birth, and not by his character? That he will no longer be treated with respect?" She had left the window and was pacing around the room,"How can I tell him Allem? How can I let him go? When I know how he will be treated, the northerners are distrustful of Dornishmen in general, how will they treat a Dornish bastard?" "Ashara," Allem put his arms around her and pulled her close," You know what his father is like. Ned may have broken promises to you, but he is a good, kind, and honorable man. A good man who wants to be a part of his son's life. Most lords don't care what happens to their bastards, but Eddard Stark has always shown an interest in Jon's wellfare. If his past actions are anything to go by, you need not worry about Jon. His father will look after him." Ashara pulled away and returned to the window. "I know. I just wish I didn't have to let him go." Allem smiled, and then frowned as he started coughing heavily. "Allem are sure you don't need to speak to the Maester." Allem waved his hand at her as he struggled to regain control of himself. "I'm fine." He coughed. "It's just a cough." "A cough that you've had for the past two weeks. It's not a good sign Allem, you should let Maester Sallem see to it." Her brother gave her a weak smile, "You worry too much, you and the Maester both. Now go on, you need to speak with Jon. It's time for him to know." Allem gave her a serious look that said that he wasn't going to argue about it. Ashara sighed, "Tomorrow. I will tell him tomorrow. The day is almost over, I will speak to him in the morning."

* * *

"I won't go! I don't care what you told him, I don't want to go and you can't make me!" Ashara sighed as she took in the anger in her son's eyes. If there was one thing that Jon had inherited from her, it was her temper. For the most part he is calm and quiet like his father, but when he is truly furious about something, he flies into a rage that resembles her own childhood furies. The first time it happened, Allem had teased her about it, told her that it was destiny repaying her for all the havok she'd created. It became less amusing after that. Now she is tired and frustrated. She has been arguing with Jon for the past two hours and it seems as though her son is determined to fight the decision to send him to Winterfell to the bitter end. She is on the verge of screaming, or crying, or tearing her hair out, or doing all three when a voice from the doorway commands, "Enough!" Allem is leaning against the doorframe, with a pale face and black rimmed eyes, a look of fury on his face. "That is enough Jon. You will not speak to your mother that way." Jon looks ashamed for a moment, before the defiance returns to his eyes. "He's not my father, he never has been! You're more of a father to me than he will ever be!" Jon looks at Allem desperately, "Why should I go to him when he has never given a thought for me? Why can't I stay with you?"

Ashara closes her eyes in pain. She had tried to include Ned in Jon's life, every letter was read and replied to and his correspondance was encouraged, but there was only so much she could do. Jon was just a boy, a boy who saw other children recieve visible, tangible expressions of love and caring from their fathers that he'd only ever recieved from his Uncle. It was only natural that he would come to view Allem as a father figure in place of Ned. Still, she'd hoped to avoid the outright resentment for Ned that she saw now. She opened her eyes to see Allem move to kneel in front of Jon, his hands on his shoulders. "Oh Jon, do you really think that your father has never shown you love? What do you think he did when he sacrificed his own desire to have you with him, so that you could have a happy childhood in a place where you'd be loved and cared for? What do you think he has been doing all these years, sending you letter after letter, filled with his desire to be a part of your life?" Jon opened his mouth to protest, but Allem cut him off, "Your father loves you Jon. He has done more for you than most men in his position would have done. He could have left Starfall that day without another thought for you, but instead he fought for you. He would have taken you north if your mother hadn't insisted that you stay here, but when she would not let him do it he made her promise that you would squire at Winterfell. Do you know why he did that Jon? He did it because he loves you and he wants to be a part of your life. That is all he has ever wanted." Ashara sees tears running down her son's cheeks and realises that they are running down her own face as well. She watches Allem pull Jon into a hug and then opens her arms when Jon releases him to turn to her. She holds Jon tight and whispers a thank you to her brother. Allem nods, and then turns away.

He barely makes it to the door when he is falling to the ground, his body wracked with coughing. "Allem? Allem!?" Ashara feels panic rising in her chest as she rushes to her brother's side. "Allem? Say something!" Allem tries to speak, but dissolves into another fit of coughing. He's on his knees, bracing himself against the doorframe with his left hand and he clutches his chest with his right. "Jon, find the maester." Ashara moves Allem so that he is sitting against the wall, then looks up to find Jon still standing in front of them, a look of horror on his face. "Jon!" She says sharply, "Get Maester Sallem now!" Jon runs out of the room and Ashara turns her attention back to her brother.

* * *

Maester Sallem says it is an infection in the lungs, an infection that has been steadily growing worse over the past few weeks. He tells her that if Allem had come to him when the symptoms first began, he might have been able to do something; but now, now it is too late. Allem lingers for a week, the fever burning through him and the cough shaking his body so that his muscles are sore and it is impossible for him to rest. When the time comes, he is so weak he can barely speak. But he tries. He motions for each of the children in turn, Allyria first, then Jon, then Edric. Allyria and Edric are weeping, Jon is struggling to maintain control of himself; he tries so hard to be a man. Allem motions for her and she goes to sit beside him on the bed, taking his hand in her own. "Beric Dondarrion sent a raven with a request for Allyria's hand in marriage. I want you to accept it for me. He will be good to her I think." Yes, Ashara thinks, Beric is a good man and he will make a fine husband. She nods her head in assent. "I have left everything in order, I want you to be in charge Starfall until Edric comes of age. Take care of my son for me." "Of course Allem." She says, but he is already slipping away into unconciousness. She stays beside him until the early hours of the morning, when he joins the rest of their family in death. When she goes to tell the children, she watches as Edric throws himself into Allyria's arms with a wail, as the tears stream silently down her sister's cheeks. She watches as Jon's face crumples, and she holds him tight as he falls apart in her arms. She looks at the children who have just lost their father figure and thinks, 'Oh Allem, how can we go on without you?'

* * *

The funeral is well attended, Allem was a good lord and a friend to many, and Ashara finds it easier to breathe among friends who understand her and are understanding of her grief. Before Arthur was killed, before she had returned to Starfall after becoming pregnant with Jon, she and Allem were almost strangers. He was the oldest, and always wrapped up in his studies, they had never been close the way she and Arthur had been. But after Arthur's death, after she was left to alone to raise her son, Allem had become her greatest support and, by extension, her greatest friend. His loss left her reeling with the realisation that, except for Allyria, she was all that remained of her siblings. She looks around the hall in search of the children. Allyria is ensconced in a corner with Arianne and the Sand Snakes while Edric sits beside Trystane. Ashara looks for Jon, but he seems to have left the hall. She escuses herself from the conversation with Oberyn and Ellaria and goes to where Quentyn is sitting beside Doran. "Have you seen Jon" She asks, trying not to sound panicked. Quentyn nods his head and shows her the door that he'd seen her son leave through. It dawns on her then, and she hurries to where she knows her son will be.

She pushes open the door to the library, and he's there in the corner, right where she knew he would be. Jon is on his knees, clutching Dawn to his chest as he weeps. He turns to look at her, tears streaming down his face. "Why? Why did he have to die?" Ashara doesn't give him an answer, she has none. She just kneels beside him, takes him in her arms, and holds him as he grieves for the only father he has ever known.


	5. Chapter 5: Allyria

The plan had been simple. They would spend the day on the beach, it would be like one of the excursions they used to take when they were younger. They would take a basket of food and just spend the day outdoors. They would swim, ride, play, do all of the things they would no longer be able to do together. They would have only five rules. Firstly, they would have fun and not waste a single moment of the precious time they had left. Second, the words "leaving", "Winterfell", "North", "Stark", and "tomorrow" were not to be used. The third and fourth rules were designed specifically with Jon in mind, but they could just as easily have applied to Edric and Allyria. No moping and no brooding had become increasingly difficult to follow as the day wore on and the sun began to set. The fifth and final rule had been no fighting. There was no point in spoiling Jon's last day at Starfall with an arguement.

It's not that they won't see each other after today, they are all riding north with Jon. Even Ashara is going, even though Allyria can tell that her sister would like nothing more than to stay as far away from Winterfell and that damn Lord Stark as she possibly can. No, it is that they know that once they cross the border into the Reach they will have crossed the threshold and there will be no going back. Whatever joy they desire to share with each other, they must share it now. They are doing a horrible job of it though.

Jon broke rules three and four immediately. He had been unable to lift himself out of the mood he'd been in for weeks for longer then a few moments at a time. As the hours passed and Jon's mood became darker, Edric began to lose his cheer first, then Allyria. It was Edric who broke the second rule first, launching into a rant about how he hated the Starks, hated the North, hated that Jon was leaving, and why did it have to be so unfair? That had set Jon off on one of his rants that Allyria cut short when he started using words that were less than appropriate for Edric's ears. That had caused Jon to stomp off down the beach on his own for a while, leaving her and Edric to mope by themselves. So far it seemed as though the only rule they had not broken was rule five.

Allyria looked to the waters edge where Edric was throwing rocks into the waves, lost in his own world. After determining that he did not need her presence as much as her other nephew, she turned and followed Jon's path down the beach. She found him sitting on a rock, staring out across the water. "Something on your mind?" She asked as she sat down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. Jon grimaced and looked down at his hands. "He's going to be the only person there who will want me to be there." 'He' meaning the thrice damned Lord Stark. "You don't know that Jon." She said, trying to sound positive. Jon snorted, "Do you know how many 'talks' mother has given me about how I musn't let what other people think of me influence my opinions of myself or my dreams? Or how the actions and attitudes of others shouldn't affect my own actions, and that I must remember to maintain control of my temper no matter what?" Allyria shook her head no. "Of course you don't, I don't even know. I lost count after the fifthteenth time!" Jon was scowling. Allyria was aware that the other realms didn't treat bastards the way the Dornish did. She knew that Ashara was worried. But if she allowed herself to contemplate the possibility of some idiot treating her dear, handsome, sweet, kind, gentle, passionate nephew in that way, she would pack their bags and have the three of them on a ship to Braavos before you could say Winterfell. She had to believe that Jon would be accepted, she had to. Because if she didn't, losing him would be so much worse.

"What about your brother? Robb? Didn't the two of you correspond for a while?" Jon rolled his eyes, "For three months when we were six. Then his mother put a stop to it." "You don't know that!" Jon turned to look at her, "Yes, I do. Lord Stark said in his letter to mother that Lady Catelyn felt that the letters were distracting Robb from his studies." Allyria felt a sharp burst of hatred for the high and mighty Lady Stark. She was the one who had stolen someone else's husband! Ned bloody Stark had been promised to Ashara. Maybe not officially, but promises had been made and Jon was already in her sister's womb when Lord Hoster Tully had made the young Lord of Winterfell choose between his promise to Ashara and his desire to save his sister. If anyone had a right to be angry or resentful it was Ashara, not the thrice damned Lady Catelyn Tully Stark.

"But he was excited to hear from you before she put a stop to it. Wasn't he?" Jon rolled his eyes again, "He was six. A lot can change in seven years." Allyria sniffed and tossed her long, dark hair. "Well, you may be determined to think that everyone is going to hate you, but I don't believe that it is possible for anyone to dislike my favorite nephew." Jon smiled wryly at her, "Except for Lady Stark right?" Allyria pulled a face at him and they bothed started laughing. Once their laughter had died down though, Allyria gave him a serious look. "Jon, if you go to Winterfell believing that everyone is going to automatically hate you, then everyone will. You must be yourself, ignore the bad and be as cheerful and friendly as possible. That is the only way to make people like you." Jon sighed, "Yes mother." He said drolly. Allyria scowled and punched his shoulder as he laughed. Jon gave her a small smile, tucked her hair back behind her ear, then took her hand and pulled her up with him as he stood. "C'mon, lets go find Edric. I could use one more race across the sand before I am sent to the Northern Wastelands."

* * *

The journey through the Reach is uneventful (their feud with the Oakhearts is currently at a standstill) and they arrive in Kingslanding earlier than they expected. King Robert welcomes them to court with open arms and roars of laughter. He places a smacking kiss on Ashara's cheek and claps Jon on the shoulder. "By the Gods boy! You're the spittin image of Ned!" He places Jon at his side during the evening meal and regales them with tales from his youth when he and Lord Stark were young boys growing up together at the Eyrie. Jon grins and laughs at the appropriate times, but Allyria can see that he is not entirely comfortable with the attention. Later on, when they are alone in their chambers, he will confide to her that it unerves him to be compared to a man he has never met. Allyria thinks that he has never minded being compared to Arthur, but she supposes that must be different. Edric endures the pompousness of the young heir to the throne, and Allyria pushes her food around her plate as the young princess next to her gives her shy glances. Ashara sits beside Queen Cersei, who looks as though she just swallowed a lemon, and together they all endure the stares and whispers from the court.

As they journey North, Allyria becomes used to the whispers. The first time they had overheard someone referring to her and Ashara as "Dornish Whores", she had felt a flush of anger and Jon had needed to be physically restrained. After a while though, they learn to control the gut reactions to the whispered rumors, blatent slights, and veiled insults.

They endure it. That is, they endure it until they reach the Twins.

The Lord of the Crossing seems determined to slight them at every turn. From seating them below the salt, to questioning Allyria's status as a maid, Old Walder gives them every insult imaginable. By the end of the night Edric is sulking, Jon's knuckles are white as he clenches his fists and grits his teeth to keep from tackling the old bastard out of his chair, and Allyria is frowning from anger and frustration, and she has a piercing headache. Only Ashara still keeps her calm, answering all of Walder Frey's insults with courtesies spoken in a calm, pleasant voice. Her face is a mask of peaceful serenity as she glides around the dancefloor with Ryman Frey, and she gives Old Walder a demure smile when he suggests that a marriage contract between her and one of his sons would be beneficial to her. Jon almost loses it at that, but Ashara grips his knee as she tells the old fart that she is honored that Lord Frey would consider her for his son, but that she doesn't think that a woman with a reputation such as her's would be worthy of such a fine man. Allyria is astonished at her sister's ability to withstand the barbs thrown her way. Ashara stands tall and elegant, a queen could not be more awe inspiring, more graceful. She has never been more proud of her.

They almost make it out of the hall without incident. Almost.

Allyria excuses herself, the headache is excruciatingly painful now, and Ashara sends Edric with her with instructions for him to go to his own bed once he has escorted her to her room. They are making their way through the crowds of people, when they are caught between the dancefloor and the door by a group of drunk young men, Old Walder's sons and grandsons by the look of them. One of them grabs Allyria around the waist and pulls her close enough that she can smell the ale and fish on his breath. She recognizes him as ones of the many young lords she had been introduced to earlier in the evening, Robert she thinks, although there is a good chance that his name is Walder. "Where arr-re you goin' m'lady? Isss tooo earrr-ly to be headin' to bed..." He slurred "But then," Robert smirked as his gaze settled on her breasts, "Maybe you'd like to take me with you." Allyria has always known that she is beautiful, she has always been admired for her resemblance to her sister, who was widely proclaimed to be the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms, but she had never experienced the blatant disrespect from men that she had recieved since coming north. Their eyes lingered on her figure as though she was a meal that they wanted to consume. There was nothing pleasant about Robert Frey's gaze, and now as she tries to push against his chest, she feels truely frightened for the first time in her life. Edric was struggling against the other man who was holding him back and the crowd of young men around them were laughing and jeering at her. A voice to her right was telling them to stop, to leave her alone, and she turned to see a handsome young man with warm brown eyes and brown hair. She recognized him as Old Walder's son Olyvar. "Leave her alone Robert!" He said, fists clenched at his side. "You're embarressing yourself and your family." Robert snorted, "Please, yer just jealous I got her an you didn't." The beast planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek and then laughed as she struggled. Olyvar moved to pull her away from him, but the oaf Robert grabbed him by the front of his shirt with his free hand and held him at arms length. Suddenly, Jon was there with two of their guards from Starfall. He pulled her out of Robert's grasp, then turned to slam his fist into the man's face. One of the guards freed Edric and then her other nephew joined Jon in beating Robert.

Lord Walder was hollering for silence, for someone to stop 'those damned Dornish bastards', when Ashara's voice rose over the tumult and cut through the chaos like a knife. "ENOUGH! Jon, Allyria, Edric; come here. Now." Ashara and Old Walder were standing in the middle of the hall, Walder leaning on the arm of one of his sons. "Lady Dayne, is it the habit of all Dornish men to break guest right and attack their hosts?" "Lord Frey, is it the habit of all Frey's to attack the daughters, sisters and aunts of their guests? Your grandson was assaulting my sister, my son and nephew were merely defending her honor." Ashara was standing tall and fierce among the burly men surrounding her, her violet eyes filled with rage as she stared at the old man. Gone was the courteous, flattering, elegant lady; in her place stood a warrior queen who would have made Nymeria herself proud. "I think my company and I shall retire to our rooms now Lord Frey, we leave in the morning. You need not see us off." The old man quailed before the fierceness in her sister's eyes. Slowly, the crowds parted, and the company from Starfall made their way back to their rooms. "I fear we will have difficulty crossing upon the return journey," Ashara said. "But we will not stay here."

* * *

The last house they stop at before they arrive at Winterfell is the Greywater Watch, home of House Reed. It is one of the most unusual places Allyria has ever seen. Their company had been met by a band of men dressed in browns and greys and greens, who had appeared out of nowhere. They had materialized out of the bogs to lead them to the house of Lord Howland Reed. Ashara had said that they were crannogmen, men who lived in the swamps that made up the Neck. She also mentioned that Lord Reed had been with Lord Stark at the Tower of Joy and had come to Starfall that day so long ago.

Lord Howland and his wife are simple folk, but kind and courteous. In Allyria's opinion, the reception they recieve from the crannogmen is a thousand times warmer than any reception they had recieved from the more afluent lords of the South. Ashara and Lord Howland exchange courtesies, and his wife, Jyana, greets them all warmly. Their children are fascinating. The boy, Jojen, is a year older than Ned and probably the oddest boy Allyria has ever met. His strange green eyes seem to stare into her very soul, and she almost feels uncomfortable. He may be of an age with her nephew, but she knows that he is mature beyond his years. The girl, Meera, is a year older than Jon and she is a breath of fresh air. She has the Northern seriousness and calm, but Allyria can see that she is as fierce and independent as any Dornish woman. They sit together at dinner and talk about everything. They are different in many ways, Meera is wilder, more of a huntress whereas Allyria is lover of books and knowledge. But they both love riding and archery and they talk for hours about their horses, and the differences between the Dornish sandsteeds and the northern horses. The five of them sit and talk for hours, until the fire in the hearth has died down. In the end , Allyria is discussing books with Jojen, while her nephews discuss hunting and archery with Meera. Allyria notices the way Meera's beautiful green eyes linger on Jon, and she smiles at the thought of her nephew attracting the attention of a girl, especially a girl like Meera. They are all so lost in their conversation, Ashara has to remind them three times to go to bed before they finally leave the hall. It has been the best experience they have had since coming north, Allyria almost feels happy. At least, she would if she wasn't accutely aware of the fact that they would be riding through the gates of Winterfell on the morrow.

She is not the only one dwelling on their arrival at Winterfell. Ashara is quiet and withdrawn throughout the evening, and she retires to her rooms early. Jon also becomes more subdued when it comes time for bed. Allyria finds him waiting for her beside the window in her rooms once she returns from the bath. She moves to stand beside him, slipping her hand into his and leaning her head on his shoulder. "What are you thinking of?" She asks. Jon takes a deep breath and then sighs. "I used to think that I didn't care. That it didn't matter that he was never there, because I had Uncle Allem. And that was enough. At least, I thought it was enough. But it never was, not really." Jon looks at her and she can see the fear in his eyes. "After Uncle Allem died, I realized that I had wanted it to be enough, because if it wasn't then it would hurt that he wasn't there. But the truth was, it had hurt anyway. I never really thought about what it would be like to meet him until then, and now, I'm afraid Ally. I'm afraid to meet him." Allyria looks at him, lifts her hand up to push the curls back from his eyes. "You feel afraid, why?' Jon turns from her to look out into the night. "What if I don't meet his expectations? What if I'm not good enough?" Allyria frowns, "Don't Jon. Don't you dare doubt yourself." She moves between Jon and the window, places her hands on either side of his face, "You are a brave and honorable young man. You are hard working, and once you put your mind to something you excell at it. You are brilliant with a sword, because you've worked at it, and you excell at your studies. Any man would be proud to have you as a son. So don't you dare doubt yourself." Jon smiled, "You always believe the best of me don't you Ally?" Allyria rolled her eyes,"We all do." Jon laughed, then hugged her tight. "I wish we could always be together, the three of us." "So do I." Allyria turned to see Edric standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "You're going to Winterfell, I'm going to squire with Lord Beric, and by the time either of us return home to Starfall, Allyria will be getting married." Jon raised an eyebrow, "I still don't understand why Lord Beric wants to marry you, obviously he isn't aware of how bossy you are." Allyria smacked him on the shoulder as she spluttered indignantly. Edric snorted. "He thinks she's a lady, boy is he in for a suprise." Jon laughed as Allyria gave him a look that said just how unimpressed she was. "It warms my heart to know that you two have so much respect for me." She said dryly. "Now off to bed! Both of you, we have a long ride tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6: Winterfell

Jon's first sight of Winterfell was breathtaking. They crested the top of the hill, and there it was, right before their eyes. Tall, round towers and strong, impressive walls, the castle itself was as bold and strong as the land surrounding it. Compared to the elegant spires of Starfall, Winterfell was strong and harsh, with a commanding presence. One look, and you knew that a great lord commanded these lands. Jon had been sure that he would hate his new home, had been sure that the wild north would be covered in snow and ice and the castle would be weather beaten and worse for wear. But the lands were rolling green hills that went on for miles, lush forests, and glittering rivers; and the castle was an impressive fortress. The first sight of it knocked the breath from him and he knew that he was going to love it. "Gods," He heard Edric say. "It's massive isn't it?" "Yeah." Jon said. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

In the wheelhouse, Allyria watched her sister take some deep breaths. The first sight of Winterfell had caused Ashara to start panicking. Not that anyone else would know that, but Allyria knew her sister. "Are you alright?" Ashara turned to look at her, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine." Allyria nodded, then turned to look out the window. Jon and Edric were riding in front of them, Jon had the same look on his face as Ashara, only his seemed to be more anticipatory than her sister's. Ashara looked like she would like nothing more than to jump out of the wheelhouse and run back to Dorne as fast as she possibly could. Allyria figured she'd probably feel the same way if she was about to see the father of her child for the first time in thirteen years.

* * *

Ned stood next to his wife and children as they waited for Ashara and his son to ride through the gates. Catelyn was tense, you could see her anger in her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Robb stood next to her, and he seemed nervous. Sansa looked like a perfect lady as usual, and even though she had announced herself to be firmly planted on her mother's side of the conflict in their family, Ned knew that she would be courteous. Arya looked like she would rather be anywhere else. She was so like Lyanna sometimes. But Lyanna had had Benjen, Arya didn't have that friendship. She and Sansa fought like cats and dogs, and Robb was too busy learning to be a man with the Greyjoy boy to pay attention to the little sister who so obviously wished she could join him. Bran was the quiet one, as well as the most adventurous. He had spent the morning on the roof of the castle waiting for the first sight of Jon's caravan. Rickon was apparently more interested in the cat circling his legs than the goings on around him. Bran and Rickon were the only ones unaffected by the rift that had developed between he and Cat. The older ones were too observant to remain unaffected by the division. Robb was obviously torn, trying to remain neutral. Sansa had planted herself at her mother's side and not moved since. She had taken to ignoring him, and it hurt to see his daughter who he had once held in his arms turn from him this way. Arya kept her opinions to herself as usual. She still treated both of her parents the same, although it seemed as though she was trying to make up for her sister's attitude by spending more time with him.

Ned's thoughts were interrupted as the company from Starfall rode through the gates. A cavalcade of Dornishmen carrying the banners of house Dayne came first. Then a wheelhouse with two young men riding alongside, one blond haired with violet eyes, the other with dark hair and Stark grey eyes. Beside him Cat drew in a quick breath, and Ned knew why. Looking at the older boy was like looking at himself at that age.

His son handed his reigns to one of the squires and then moved to open the door to the wheelhouse. He held out his hand and Ned held his breath. The girl who stepped out was the image of Ashara, long wavy dark hair, piercing violet eyes, this must be Allyria. He remembered seeing her, she had been a babe of two. She had grown into a lovely woman. She moved to the side and Ned refocused his attention on the door of the wheelhouse. Jon held out his hand again and Ashara stepped out and Ned lost all ability to think clearly. She had always had that effect on him. Some things never change.

* * *

Ashara moved her eyes over the courtyard. There were five children standing there, four with the Tully look and one girl who was the image of Ned. She would grow to look like her aunt. Ashara wasn't sure how to feel about that. Catelyn Tully was glaring at her and Ashara gave her a polite smile before turning her eyes to Ned. He looked good. The years had added lines to his face and he seemed harsher, older. But his eyes still looked at her with the same intensity and when he smiled at her she felt as though she couldn't breathe. She moved closer and placed her hand in his. The moment they touched, she felt that old heat move through her. "Lady Dayne, we are honored to welcome you to Winterfell." Even his voice still affected her. "Lord Stark, we are honored to be here. Thank you for your hospitality." There was the sound of a throat clearing and they both turned to look at Lady Catelyn. "My apologies, my wife, Catelyn." Ashara gave her a polite curtsy, "Lady Stark." Catelyn returned the gesture, although her voise held a certain air of disgust as she said, "Lady Dayne." Ashara motioned Jon forward. "Allow me to introduce you. My son, Jon Sand. Jon, this is your father, Lord Stark."

* * *

Jon wasn't sure what it was he'd been expecting, but the man looking at him with eyes exactly like his own wasn't it. Whatever his previous expectations, they were inconsequential. He looked into his father's eyes, and he felt whole for the first time since his uncle had died. "My lord," He said, as he bowed. "I thank you for having me here. I look forward to spending time with you and your family." He straitened up only to have his father pull him into a hug. "My son. You've grown." Jon had stiffened at first, the action had startled him, but now he relaxed into his father's arms. He had to hold back the tears at the feelings of safety and warmth that washed over him. As he returned the hug, he heard his father say, "Welcome home Jon."


	7. Chapter 7: Dance Me

In hindsight, whoever had been in charge of the seating arrangements probably should have seated Jon next to Lord Stark instead of Ashara. But then, Allyria thought, Northerners don't have much sense do they. She watched as her sister started to share yet another story about Jon's childhood with Lord Stark. Every time Lord Stark laughed, Lady Catelyn (who was sitting to his right) clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. Allyria had grown up aware of the past between her sister and the Starks and the circumstances of her nephew's birth. Ashara had never talked about it, but the other members of their household had talked the subject almost to death. She had been raised with her family's side of of the story, a side that had no sympathy for the Lady of Winterfell. But sitting here, watching her sister fall once more for a man who had abandoned her to rescue a sister who he had deemed more important than his promise to her, watching Lady Catelyn endure the embarresment of her husband's obvious affection for another woman; she puts herself in Lady Catelyn's shoes and for the first time in her life, she feels sorry for her.

Jon is seated to her right beside Ashara, Edric to her left beside Ser Nerio. The Stark children were all seated to the right of Lady Catelyn, and appeared to be both uncomfortable and angry with the goings on around them. At least, the older ones did, the younger two were completely oblivious to the tension in the room. All of the other people in the hall were staring at them while attempting to look like they weren't, and failing.

Allyria sighed and nudged Jon's arm subtly. When he looked at her she looked first to Lady Catelyn, then to the Stark children, then to the people in the hall; all of whom had either uncomfortable or angry looks on their faces. Jon followed her gaze, then looked at his mother and father. He made a face at her and whispered, "What do we do?" Allyria sighed. "I'm thinking." "Well you better hurry up with a plan," Edric whispered to her left. "This is getting really uncomfortable." Suddenly, the musicians struck up a tune that had all three of them tensing up. "Is that...?" Edric whispered. "It is." Allyria moaned. Jon grimaced, "This is it. They're all gonna hate me after this." The song was one that always made Ashara sad and miserable. A song that brought up memories for her sister. The song that Ashara Dayne and Ned Stark had danced to when they'd first met at Harrenhall. The three of them watched in horror as Lord Stark stood with a smile on his face and led Ashara onto the dance floor. The hall was silent, save for the music of the dance.

* * *

Jon watched as his father and mother danced together for the first time in years. They looked so happy, and for a moment he allowed himself to wonder what it would have been like, to grow up with both his mother and his father. Then he looked over to where Lady Catelyn and her children sat. He understood that his mother and father still loved each other, but this wasn't the time or the place for it. If things continued on the way they were now, someone was going to get hurt. As the song ended he stood and motioned for Allyria and Edric to follow him. His mother and father had stayed on the dancefloor and were apparently about to dance again. He moved down the dais until the three of them stood behind the Stark children who were eyeing them with a mixture of curiosity and mistrust. "Lady Sansa," He said as he held out a hand to her. "Would you do me the honor of dancing this next dance with me?" The girl gave him a suprised look, then looked down the table to her mother. Jon kept his eyes on his sister's face, not daring to look at his father's wife, but Lady Catelyn apparently gave her consent because Sansa smiled sweetly and placed her hand in his. He then turned to his brother. "Lord Robb, I hate to leave my lady aunt on her own, would you be so kind as to dance with her while I accompany your sister?" Robb looked at Allyria, who gave him one of her slow, sensual smiles as she looked up at him through thick, dark eyelashes. Robb Stark's eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard. Jon almost felt sorry for him. His aunt was beautiful even when compared to other Dornishwomen. Dornishmen were used to women who oozed sensuality and had confidence in their own beauty, but even they would stumble and stutter at a smile from Allyria Dayne. Robb Stark didn't stand a chance.

As the four of them moved to the dance floor, he saw Edric standing awkwardly by the dais. He smirked at him and nodded his head in the direction of his younger sister. Edric looked over to where the girl was glaring at him, then turned back and shook his head no emphatically in his direction. Jon caught Allyria's attention, and one glare from her had Edric asking Lady Arya to dance. He knew that it wasn't the best plan, but it would buy sometime for Allyria to think of a better one. That is, if she could stop flirting with his brother long enough to do so.

* * *

Allyria wasn't sure if Robb Stark was too nervous to talk to her because his mother was watching, or if it was simply because she was a girl. He could barely look at her without blushing, he stammered whenever he spoke to her, and he kept his eyes on his feet whenever possible. It was rather endearing actually. "I had thought North would be covered in snow, I was happy to be mistaken. You have some rather beautiful country around you." Robb finally looked her in eyes and grinned. "The North may not be Dorne, and the glass gardens of Winterfell may not be the water gardens of Sunspear, but we do have our own beautiful sites." "I have heard of your glass gardens, I look forward to seeing them before I leave. Perhaps you might show them to me?" Robb blushed again and stammered out that he would be delighted to to give her a tour in the morning. In return, Allyria gave him one of her winning smiles.

She looked over to where Jon was dancing with his sister. He appeared to be having some difficulty conversing, as Sansa seemed to be giving him one word answers and keeping her attention focused on the dance. Edric was having some sort of arguement with Arya, and Ashara and Ned Stark were lost in their own world. They would need to do something to seperate them and, judging by the tension level in the room, they would need to do it soon. But she really couldn't think of anything, not with Robb Stark looking at her like she'd hung the moon and blushing at her every word. He was just so...interesting.

* * *

Edric was actually having a good time. Arya Stark wasn't like the other girls, she was interested in swords, archery, and riding...she was actually really fun. They were currently debating (well, arguing) over whether or not the Braavosi sword techniques could provide sufficient leverage against a larger opponent. He had completely forgotten about Ashara...

* * *

Jon could tell that he wasn't going to be able to rely on Allyria or Edric to help him with a plan, so he started to think of one himself. It wasn't as though the conversation was stimulating, if he hadn't seen his little sister gossiping with her friends earlier he would have thought that she was mute. As Sansa seemed to have no interest in conversing with him he was able to think. As he watched his mother laugh as his father twirled her around the dancefloor, he had an idea.

As the dance ended, he pulled Allyria to the side and whispered in her ear. She immediately nodded and moved to where the musicians were seated. Jon walked to where his parents were standing, and cleared his throat. Once he had their attention, he held a hand out to his mother and as the musicians struck up a lively Dornish tune he said, "Mother, would you honor me with a dance?"

* * *

Allyria smiled as she pulled a protesting Robb out onto the floor. "My Lady, I don't know the steps, I'm afraid I'll-" "You won't be the first man to trod on my feet Lord Stark, nor the last. Now come, allow me to show you how we dance in Dorne."

Arya made a face at Edric. "I think I'm done. You should go dance with Sansa." Edric rolled his eyes at her. "C'mon, we're having fun aren't we? I doubt I'd have as much fun with your sister. She doesn't look like the type to talk about merits of the Braavosi dancing techniques." Arya laughed as Edric imitated Sansa's 'ladylike expression' and let him pull her into the dance.

Soon, Lord Stark asked his wife to dance and they were followed by other couples until the floor filled with laughing, dancing men and women. All the tension left the room and Allyria and her nephews grinned at each other as they quietly congratulated each other on a job well done. The crisis was averted...for now.

A/N: For those of you who would like to see, two lovely readers from AO3 (bastardofasshai and Lily) created some lovely manips for this story. they can be found at the links below.

bastardofasshai's : post/28620699512/oh-allem-how-can-we-go-on-without-you-his

Lily's: . ?id=

Go check them out!


	8. Chapter 8: Old Loves and New

A/N: This was the hardest chapter to write to date. I have so many plans for where this is going to go, and it was just really difficult to stay on target. Also, I've been working 3 - 4 Twelve hour shifts a week and going back to school for my graduate degree, so I've been competely exhausted. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long... although I probably just jinxed myself by saying that.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please, feel free to review and let me know if you loved it or hated it, I may not always be able to reply, but hearing your thoughts is always helpful!

Sometimes, Allyria wished that her nephews weren't so over protective. Robb Stark had been giving her a tour of Winterfell, and Jon had not left them all morning. Edric had been with them as well, until Lady Arya had pulled him off to the training grounds to force him to uphold his promise to show her some sword fighting techniques. Between the two of Jon's sisters, Arya was definitely the most interesting. Sansa seemed to be a sweet, intelligent girl, but her closeness to her mother made it hard for them to get aquainted. Allyria smiled as Robb helped her up the steps into the glass gardens. She turned to watch Jon come through the door behind her. She had given him every hint, used every sign to tell him that she was fine, and did not need him shadowing her. He'd ignored it. She really hoped he'd get bored and leave soon.

* * *

Arya huffed as she looked up at Edric from the ground. "That wasn't fair! I'm new at this?" Edric laughed and helped her up, "So you want me to be easy on you? I do that and you'll never get better. Now c'mon, this move is one Jon taught me." Arya let Edric position her, trying to pay attention to his instructions. She found herself watching him instead. She'd always thought that Sansa was silly, dreaming of knights and ladies, but Edric was different. He didn't care that she was a girl, he didn't act like she was stupid for wanting to learn to fight. He was funny, and smart, and kind, and he treated her like an equal. "Arya? You alright?" Arya started, and looked to see Edric giving her a puzzled look. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking, that's all." Edric grinned, "Well you'll never learn to fight if you start daydreaming. Here, let me show you again." Arya wished he didn't have to leave.

* * *

Are you looking for something in particular Lady Dayne?" Ashara gave the maester a grateful smile, "No, Thank you. I'm just looking. You dont mind do you?" Maester Luwin gave her an awkward smile in return, "Not at all my lady. If you'll excuse me then, I will leave you to it." Ashara watched the old man leave the room then turned back to the book shelves in front of her. The children were all enjoying their time with Ned's children, and as both she and Lady Catelyn were agreed upon the fact that they could not stand each other and would rather die than be alone in the same room, she was left to her own devices. And so she had wandered around the castle by herself until she had found the library. She let out a frustrated sigh, her stay at Winterfell would be longer than she had thought.  
"I didn't think our selection was that poor. Perhaps I can help you find something?" Ashara whirled around at the sound of his voice. "Really Ned, you shouldn't sneak up like that, you frightened me!" Ned moved closer, his hands clasped behind his back as though afraid to touch her. "Really? I remember you once told me that nothing ever frightened you." Ashara smiled, "I was young, and quite overconfident in myself." She turned back to the shelves. "I was hoping to speak to you, about Jon." Ned said as he moved to stand beside her. Ashara felt her heart jump. It was torture really, being so close to him and not being able to touch him without causing a scandal. But then, that had always been the way things were between them. "What exactly did you want to discuss?" she asked, her voice sounding lower than normal. She cleared her throat. Ned ran a finger slowly down the spine of a book, "What is it that he plans to do? What should I be preparing him for?" "He wants to be a knight and be great enough and worthy enough to carry Dawn." Ned turned to look at her, his brows raised. "He wants to be the Sword of the Morning? Is that realistic?" Ashara gave him an irritated look, "Ned, how many times must I tell you? We Dornish are different from you Northerners. The circumstances of Jon's birth are of no consequance. Prince Doran has mentioned that he would want him to go to Sunspear and be one of Princess Arienne's swornswords and Allem had already started making plans for when he was ready to carry Dawn before he died..." She turned her attention back to the shelves. "I was sorry to hear about his death, I know you both loved him." Ashara took a sharp breath as Ned took her hand in his. "I was jealous, jealous that he was there when I was not, but I was grateful that Jon had someone...that you had someone." He was pulling her closer, his hands sliding up her arms to rest on her shoulders, his lips inches from her's. "Ned..." she whispered, "Ned no, not now. Not with your wife and children under the same roof." She placed her hands on either side of his face. "You belonged to me once, but not anymore. Our memories of that time will have to be enough." Ned looked pained as he placed a kiss to the inside of her wrist and then moved away from her. "I will go get Jon." She said as she moved toward the door, "You two should talk."

* * *

Allyria was getting more and more frustrated. She loved Jon, really she did, but he was being ridiculous. They had gone through all of Winterfell and were now headed to the Godswood, and he was still following them. She was trying not to allow her mood to show, she didn't want Robb to think she was mad at him, but she could see that he was getting irritated with his brother as well. Suddenly, as they were entering the Godswood, Edric came running up. "Jon! Aunt Ashara says you need to come back to the Castle." Jon frowned, looking from Edric to her to Robb. "Go on Jon, we'll be fine." She said brightly. Please go, please, please, please. Jon nodded and turned back. As he passed Edric, she heard him tell Edric to stay with her.  
After Jon had disappeared around corner, Edric gave the two of them a sheepish look. "Actually,um, Arya's waiting on me at the stables... we were going to go riding..." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Robb frown and open his mouth to say something but she cut him off. "That's fine Edric, go on. Just make sure you're back in time to get ready for the evening meal." Edric gave her a releaved smile and then ran off. She turned back to Robb. "Now, I believe you were going to show me your Godswood my Lord." She hooked her arm through his, and pulled the blushing boy down the path.

* * *

Ned sighed as he re-read the same sentence for the fifth time. His encounter with Ashara in the library had thrown him. As he thought back on his actions since her arrival, his was ashamed. Cat deserved better than that. But then, she always had. She was a good woman, a woman who had married him out of duty, but had shown him more love and respect than he deserved. Sometimes, he wondered what their marriage had would have been like if his heart had been free to love her the way she deserved. They had not known each other when they'd married, but she had been a good wife and had born him five children. They would have been happy. But from the moment he had told her about Ashara, about Jon, any chance they'd had of moving beyond the knowledge that she was never meant to be his and he was never hers, vanished. If Ashara had not still been a part of his life, if there hadn't been ravens flying to and from Starfall every month, his brother's ghost might not have stood between them, and the memory of his time with Ashara would not color his interactions with Cat. He knows that she sometimes thinks of his brother, thinks that things would have been different. He doesn't have the heart to tell her the truth, that Brandon's involvment with Barbrey Ryswell would not have ended with their marriage.  
For the longest time, Ned had prided himself on not acting the way his brother would have acted. Cat was not the wife he had chosen, but he remained faithful to her, faithful to their marriage bed. But then, Ashara came to his home. She was here, she was under the same roof, she was within reach. She had been the one to stop him in the library, and Ned couldn't help but wonder if he would have been able to stop himself. In truth, he was no better than Brandon would have been. Cat thought that she had been cheated, that she deserved better than him, that she deserved Brandon. But she's wrong, isn't she Brandon, Ned thought. She deserved better than both of us.  
Ned looked up from his papers as the door to his study opened. "Mother said you wanted to see me?" Ned smiled and motioned for Jon to take a seat. "Yes, please sit down." Ned studied his son's face as Jon sat down across from him. It really was like looking at a younger version of himself, the long features, the grey eyes; but there was something of Dayne's to be found the glossiness of his hair, the fullness of his mouth, the shape of his jaw. Indeed, if he looked hard enough, he could see something of a man who would have been his brother had things been different. A man who had worn a white cloak and died at his hand. "Your mother tells me you wish to carry Dawn, to become the Sword of the Morning. This is true?" Jon nodded, "It's the only thing I've ever wanted." Ned nodded, "I see, and you've been working toward it? It takes a lot of dedication to become the best Jon." A small smile teased the corner of Jon's mouth. "That's what Uncle Allem used to say." Ned fought back the surge of jealousy and said, "He was right. Now your Master of Arms, Ser Nerio, has apprised myself and Ser Rodrick Cassel of your progress in the practice yard, and Ser Rodrick seems to think that you are ahead of where Robb and the other boys are. So we have decided that, while you will still work with Ser Rodrick and the other boys, you will be placed with Ser Jory Cassel to begin your training. Does that sound good to you?" Jon nodded his head, "Yes father, Ser Jory seems to be an excellant knight. I look forward to learning from him." Ned smiled, Jon would be happy in Winterfell. He'd always known he would.

* * *

Jon wasn't sure what it was exactly his father wanted from him, but he was glad to have some time alone with him. It gave him a chance to get to know the man behind the letters. His father was a serious man, hard and stern like the North itself. His mother once told him that if his father could eat and breathe honor and duty, he would. But Jon could see that he loved his family just as much as his honor and duty. That he loved Jon. "Why did you want to keep me? Prince Oberyn has raised the Sand Snakes, but you are a Northerner. Men like you don't raise their bastard sons." He could see his father freeze for a moment before continuing to move his papers around. "You're my son Jon, ad Ashara... your mother... I loved you, both of you, why would I not want you in my life?" Jon wasn't sure what to say. He just looked at him, this man that he'd misjudged for so long. Perhaps, coming to Winterfell would be a good thing after all.


	9. Chapter 9: Goodbyes

A/N:

So for anyone who is interested...

I recorded myself reading the first bit of this. It is posted on my tumblr here: post/33162434965/here-it-is-his-mothers-son-chapter-9-goodbyes

* * *

They were in Jon's room, the three of them sprawled out on his bed in various positions. It was late, the candle was almost burned out, but neither Allyria nor Edric showed any sign of leaving. Jon was layed out, his head on Allyria's lap, her fingers running through his hair as she sat crossed legged at the head of the bed. Edric was sprawled out at the end of the bed; half on, half off. Jon sighed, this would be the last time, the last time that he and his two best friends would be together, just the three of them, the way it had always been.

"Well, I have to say Jon, your family isn't as bad as we thought."

Jon looked up, "I suppose Robb redeemed them for you?"

Allyria blushed and Jon had to roll away in order to avoid the slap. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said primly, standing up to move towards the window.

Jon opened his mouth to warn his aunt about causing trouble between his mother and Lady Catelyn, but Edric cut him off. "I think Arya's brilliant!" Jon groaned, "Not you too!"

Edric blushed, "NO! No, not like THAT! I just mean, she's interesting, lots of fun, like Allyria used to be before she decided she was too grown up."

"I did not!"

"Did too Al," Jon said, " you got bethroed to Lord Beric and suddenly you were too ladylike to do anything." Allyria looked like she wanted to retort, but it seemed that the mention of Lord Beric had quieted her. That was strange, she had never seemed upset by the mention of her bethroal before. She had always been excited by it.

Jon shared a look with Edric. Something was going on with their aunt, but they both valued their lives too much mention it.

Edric cleared his throat, "So what are you going to do after we leave tomorrow Jon?"

"Yeah Jon, you won't have us as a barrier anymore."

Jon threw a pillow at Allyria. "I haven't been using you as barriers, and I'll be fine!" He tried to sound sure of himself but the truth was the thought of being left alone with his father and his family was frightening. So far, he had only had one meaningful conversation with his father and he'd spent the rest of his time getting to know Ser Rodrick and Ser Jory.

"Jon, really. You haven't spent time with any of them without one of us there!"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it okay. Let's talk about something else."

* * *

Ashara was packing the last of her things when Jon came into her rooms.

"Mother?" He was looking at her with that look that said he was upset but trying not to show it. It reminded her of the look that Ned had gotten after he'd lain with her, he'd been upset with himself so sure that he'd dishonored her. She'd never thought of her honor as being contained between her legs, but there was something about the way Ned was concerned for her that touched her.

"What is it Jon, what's the matter."

Jon came closer, she noticed his hands were clenched at his side. "I know that...you don't need me to take care of you...but...I just...I just want to know that you'll be alright...without me. Allyria is going to Sunspear, and Edric will be joining Lord Beric...and I just want to know that you'll be alright."

She felt like crying, like breaking down and letting all the pain and anger and sheer hysteria at the thought of losing her boy take over. But she also felt proud, so proud of this boy who was almost a man, who she had birthed, who she had raised. He was losing her just as she was losing him and he worried more over her wellbeing than being left alone with a family he wasn't sure wanted him. Oh she would miss him so.

She took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his, "My sweet, sweet boy. I love you so much, and I will miss you so. But I will be fine. As long as you write to me, as long as I know that you are safe and well, I will be fine. But I will wait for you. I will wait for you my boy. I will pray that, someday, you'll come back to me."

There were tears running down both their faces, and Jon pulled her in a hug as he buried his face in her neck. Ashara wrapped her arms around her son and held on tight. In only a few hours, she would have to let him go.

* * *

Ned watched as his son said goodbye to Allyria Dayne. Robb blushed as Allyria accepted his gift of a blue winter rose with a brilliant smile and shining violet eyes. He didn't need to look at Cat to know that the look on her face was one of disapproval. He felt the same way, not that he had anything against the girl but... it was just too familiar.

Not that it mattered, Lady Allyria was returning to Dorne and, in a few years, would be wed to Beric Dondarrion. Robb would get over his crush... eventually. At least, Ned hoped he would.

The last thing that needed to happen was another dramatic, star-crossed romance between a Stark and a Dayne.

He turned to watch as Ashara said goodbye to their son. She ran her hand down Jon's cheek, "Goodbye my son." "Goodbye Mother" He said as he kissed her forehead. "Safe journey."

Ashara turned to walk back to the carriage, but stopped in front of him. "Take care of him Ned." She said, looking him in the eyes, her violet eyes hard as stone.

Ned nodded, "Don't worry my Lady, he will be cared for."

Ashara gave him one last searching look before turning to Cat.

"Lady Stark. Thank you for your kindness and hospitality." Ashara curtsied and Cat gave her a tight smile and a curtsy of her own in return. Only after Ashara had been helped into her carriage by her nephew did Ned feel his wife relax.

* * *

Jon watched as his family disappeared out of the gates.

It was an odd feeling, feeling alone in a crowded courtyard, but he did feel so alone.

He turned away as the guards began to close the gates, most of the crowd had already dispersed but his younger brother, Bran, was standing there watching him.

"You know, you can see them better from the roof." He said, pointing to the stables.

Jon raised his eyebrows. "You climb up there often?'

"All the time, c'mon I'll show you."

Bran showed him the spot to climb up and they sat together in silence as the company containing his family faded into the distance.

"Your going to miss them aren't you? I know I would."

Jon looked down at his knees. "Yeah. Yeah I am."

Bran stood and moved to the edge to begin his climb down. "Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Are you really?" Jon called.

"Really!" came the reply from down below.

Jon smiled and looked back out over the view in front of him.

Perhaps fitting in at Winterfell would be easier than he'd thought.

* * *

A/N: FINALLY! Sorry that chapter took so long, but its up now and we are officially in the Stark era of the fic. Check out this sneak peek at chapter 10 and leave me a review! Till next time m'dears!

Preview of Chapter 10 : Family

"You're just so PERFECT!" Robb yelled as he threw punch after punch, his face flushed red with hot, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. "Why'd you have to be so damned perfect!" Jon blocked another punch. He didn't know what to say to him, he just hoped he wouldn't have to hurt Robb to get him to stop hitting him.


	10. Chapter 10: Family

A/N: Okay, so this chapter is FINALLY here. Sorry about the wait, Arya and Sansa gave me a hard time. Also, Roslin plot bunnies everywhere.

* * *

Jon had known that things would be different in the North, that he wouldn't be treated the same as he'd been in Dorne, but the fact that the only people to treat him like a real person for the first month had been his father, Ser Rodrick, Ser Jory, Rickon and Bran was very depressing.

It was only after the first month that his other siblings began to come around.

* * *

'_Thwack!_' Arya let out a huff as her practice sword she'd filched from the training grounds made contact with the pole. She was attempting to continue with the lessons that Ed had given her, but it was so much harder to practice without a partner.

She moved herself back into position and then lunged…only to trip over her feet. She made a noise of frustration as she got up and threw the practice sword into the mud in anger.

"You need to keep your legs still, move only your upper body."

Arya whirled around to see Jon walking toward her, a smile on his face.

"Here," He said, bending down to pick up the wooden sword from where she had thrown it, "Let me show you."

Arya allowed him to lead her body through the steps, pretending it was Edric and not _him._

It's somewhat easy; Jon and Edric have the same accents, although Jon's voice is much deeper, Jon having already become a man whereas Edric is still a boy.

But Edric was not the mirror image of her father, the visual representation of everything that was ever wrong between her parents.

She found herself staring at him as he attempted to correct her hold on the blade and eventually he sighed, "What is it Arya?"

"Did you want to come to Winterfell?"

Jon looked at her for a moment and then said, "No. No, I wanted to stay in Dorne."

"Then why did you come?"

"Because your- _our_ father made my mother promise that I would squire here, and a promise must be kept."

Arya looked away from Jon's serious grey eyes; it was so _disturbing_ to look at Jon. If Jon was serious, he was so like Father it was frightening, if he was laughing and joking with Jory or some of the other knights, he was so _different _from her Father, and yet still the same.

She thinks that that is why she cannot get used to him the way Bran and Rickon have. Because she is so used to being the only one who looks like Ned Stark, the only grey eyed, dark haired, long faced Stark child…and now Jon. Jon who doesn't just look like Father, he looks like _her._

She and Jon are the same.

The realization hits her so suddenly she feels the tears come to her eyes. She hears Jon ask her if she's alright and she nods her head, wiping the traitorous tears away from her eyes as she picks up the practice sword.

Robb and Theon had always laughed whenever she asked for them to show her how to use a sword, but Jon just smiles and leads her through the motions without a single joke about her being a girl. Arya had heard about how the women in Dorne were different, were allowed more liberties. Edric had told her about Prince Oberyn's bastard daughters who fought as well as any man, because their father had trained them to fight, and she had been so envious. Dorne seemed like a wonderful place indeed, away from septas and courtesies and sewing, all of the things Arya hated.

She thinks that if she had been Jon, she would not have wanted to leave Dorne either.

* * *

He begins to teach Arya how to use a sword; they practice once a week after he has finished his training with Jory for the day. It's an arrangement he worked out with his father and Lady Stark. He would teach Arya how to defend herself as a reward for her good behavior during her lessons with Septa Mordane. He would do so under the supervision of Ser Rodrik.

Jon knew that his father and Lady Stark had fought about the idea when he had brought it to them, but he didn't think too much about it.

It was fun, teaching his sister to fight. In some ways, Arya reminded him of his aunt; it made him less homesick.

* * *

Sansa does not hate Jon Sand.

She does not hate Ashara Dayne either; it would be unladylike to hate them. She does however hate what their existence does to her family. Her mother and father have become cold to one another since Jon's arrival; Sansa knows that it is because her mother blames Father for Jon's presence in Winterfell. She had heard the servants talking, whispering about how Lady Dayne had wanted to keep Jon with her, in Dorne, and that Prince Oberyn had offered to squire him, but that her father had insisted that he be brought to Winterfell. So, she thinks, it would seem that her mother is justified in blaming her father for the discomfort of Jon's presence.

Sansa remembers what it was like before Jon came to Winterfell, before her father had chosen to shame her mother before the entirety of the North with his actions, by dancing with Lady Ashara and treating his bastard son as equal to his trueborn children.

She remembers the way her father's eyes would soften whenever they looked at her mother as she nursed Rickon, the small quirk he would get at the corner of his mouth whenever her mother would give him a playful glance before gliding out of the hall, only for her father to follow a moment later.

Sansa remembers the way they loved each other, perhaps not as deeply as the princes and princesses in the stories she loved, but they had loved each other. She thinks that, if it were not for Lady Dayne and Jon Sand, they would remember it too.

* * *

Theon makes her nervous.

She has always been frightened of him, he was older and bigger and stronger with a cruel streak that made him terrifying to her. But ever since Sansa had begun to grow a woman's figure, her father's hostage had taken to making rude jokes in her presence.

She hadn't meant to be caught alone in a darkened corridor with him, but she is and he's drunk and suddenly all the rude things he'd said when her parents weren't listening are now echoing through her mind.

He leers down at her, quite obviously trying to get a look at her breasts and reaches out to stroke her shoulder with his sweaty hand. Sansa jerks away, and feels a new wave of panic take over as Theon laughs drunkenly.

"C'mon Sansa, s'alright. 'Ear, lemme walk the pretty little lady to her door hmmm… you'd like that wouldn' you?"

"I… I appreciate the sentiment Theon, but…I can walk myself back to my room and I think it best if you went to yours. You are quite drunk." Sansa drew herself up to look her father's hostage in the eye, feeling quite brave.

But then Theon grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and she squeaked as he dragged her along beside him.

"Nah, c'mon now…thought you wanted a knight to treat you like a lady. Can't let the lady go walking all alone."

_You are not a knight,_ she thinks, _you are not a true knight._

"Let her go, Theon."

Jon's sudden appearance startles both her and Theon, and she winces in pain as Theon's grip on her arm tightens.

"Shove off, ya Dornish bastard. 'N get outta m'way."

"You are manhandling my father's daughter, and I'm sure Lord Stark would be very displeased to hear of your behavior, Now unhand Lady Sansa or I shall call for Ser Jory whom I can assure you is right around the corner."

Sansa held her breath as Theon glared at Jon for long moment, obviously weighing his options. It seemed the threat of her father's wrath had done the trick because the drunken lout squeezed her arm one last time before throwing her in Jon's general direction.

"Won't forget about this bastard," Theon slurred as he stormed away, "Besst watch yerself."

Jon for his part pays Theon no more attention than he would an ant crawling across his boot.

"Are you alright Lady Sansa?" He asks kindly as he sets her back on her feet.

"Yes." She replies shakily, "I am well, thank you Jon."

They're not friends, and she still will not call him her brother, but something does change between them after that. She discovers that, while she may not like what has happened to her parents since his arrival, she doesn't begrudge Jon his existence quit so much.

She thinks he will be a fine knight one day; he has a true heart after all.

* * *

Robb hates him.

He hates him for being the better swordsman, for being allowed to use real steel, for how proud Father seems to be of him, for the fact that he looks like his father, for the fact that everyone talks about how he looks "like the spittin' image of Lord Stark when he was younger, I swear."

Jon is everything that Robb is supposed to be.

Theon laughs at him now, says things like "maybe I should be bowing and scraping before your father's bastard then, he looks to be more of a proper Stark anyway."

Robb throws a punch at him but Theon just blocks it and laughs at him again.

He used to want Jon to come to Winterfell, used to want to know his Dornish brother. Now all he wants is for Jon to disappear.

It all comes to a head in the practice yard.

Robb is trying to learn a move, but he's struggling. Arya is sitting on the fence watching, her feet swinging back and forth and as he falls to the ground for the fifth time, she calls "Jon knows how to do that move, Ser Rodrik, he showed it to me last week. You should have him show Robb how to do it."

He tenses and swallows the enraged "No" he so desires to scream.

Ser Rodrik calls Jon over from where he is practicing with Jory and Robb grits his teeth and schools his face to conceal his anger as Jon begins to lead him through the steps once more.

He does it right this time and somehow that just makes him angrier.

He watches Ser Rodrik praise Jon for his teaching abilities, and then looks up to see his father watching from the balcony.

He feels inadequate, he feels like a failure. He hates it.

* * *

Jon likes the Godswood; he likes the calmness he finds there. It gives him a similar feeling to the peace he had always found in walking along the shore at Starfall.

It seems as though the part of him that is a Stark comes to life in the Godswood, and he thinks he knows why his father comes here so often.

He looks up at the canopy of leaves overhead and breathes in with a smile on his face, only to have the peaceful moment shatter to pieces around him as he his tackled to the ground.

He rolls over only to have Robb's fist connect with his face.

"I hate you, you bastard, why'd you have to come here. You're not wanted damn you!"

Jon rolls to avoid another punch, he tries to get to his feet but Robb kicks his legs out from under him.

"You're just so PERFECT!" Robb yells as he throws punch after punch, his face flushed red with hot, angry tears streaming down his cheeks. "Why'd you have to be so damned perfect?"

Jon blocked another punch. He doesn't know what to say to him, he just hopes he won't have to hurt Robb to get him to stop hitting him.

Lady Stark wouldn't like that.

Jon grabs Robb and flips them, pins his arms down and yells at him to stop.

Robb flails, but the anger fueled energy is draining from his body, leaving his limbs weak. He pushes Jon off of him and they lay panting side by side.

"I asked Father once, when you would come and live with us."

Jon turns his head to look as Robb continues.

"I wanted you to come live with us. I wanted us to be friends, brothers. Strange isn't it. Now you're here and all I want is for you to leave."

They're quiet for a long moment and then Jon speaks.

"I never dreamed of coming here. I knew I would, but I never wanted it. I hated him you know, for abandoning us, Mother and me. I told myself that I didn't envy you, but the truth is I did, I still do. He's been a part of your life for as long as you can remember, and I only just met him. And no matter what you may think, my being here doesn't change anything. He's still proud of you, you're still his son."

Robb was looking at him now.

"I'm good with a sword because I have worked at it since I was five years old in the practice yard; I worked to be the best. Because I have to in order to have my place in the world. One day, I will be the Sword of the Morning, but only if I am worthy of her. You are a Stark, Robb, and I may be as well but I am a Dayne first, a Dornish bastard, and unlike you I must earn my position. It doesn't make me better than you."

Robb stared at him for a long moment, and then sighed as he turned away. "So…shall we be friends now, do you think?"

"We can try." Jon said, "If you want, we can start by being brothers."

"Aye, we can do that."

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. The next chapter will be the transition chapter for us to move into canon timeline, and then the real plot begins :D


End file.
